


Green Magic

by Lumicrystalline



Category: Undertale
Genre: Attempt at Humor, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Getting to Know Each Other, Harem, M/M, Magic, Nonbinary Chara & Frisk (Undertale), POV Second Person, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Romance, Slow Burn, lots of headcannons in this one. making stuff up left and right, no beta we die like men, plot heavy, reverse-harem - Freeform, slow updates sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29830434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumicrystalline/pseuds/Lumicrystalline
Summary: You're a writer with a talent for growing things, working from home and living alone in a big old house on Mt. Ebott. No noise, no neighbors, and no one around to notice any suspiciously magical activity happening at your house from time to time. Just how you like it.Then Frisk frees the monsters, and it turns out you're not the last magic user alive. You befriend the kid, and through them, meet the rest of their adoptive monster family. Sans hates your guts, but Papyrus seems to like you well enough.Thanks to a machine created by the monsters' former royal scientist, alternate universe versions of Sans and Papyrus get tossed into your universe. Until anyone can figure out how to get them home, you get stuck with ten new skeleton roommates. Shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 67





	1. Prologue, Part I

**Reader**

For decades, people climbed Mt. Ebott, or at least they tried to. Out of the many who left each year to explore the mountain and the miles of wilderness around it, a few never returned.

Naturally, people in the city below started to spin local legends and campfire stories with the missing cases as inspiration. Mt. Ebott and the Ebott Forest were either haunted by ghosts, were a secret landing site for aliens, or happened to be the location of a fairy kingdom. Whatever creatures lived in the forest, the legends warned that they didn't take kindly to humans stumbling into their territory. Make-believe aside, it was generally agreed that there were perfectly reasonable, if unfortunate, explanations behind the missing cases. Bears and other predators, bad falls, misdirection, starvation, or general carelessness could do anyone in.

You didn't know about ghosts, aliens, or faeries, but there _were_ bears on the mountain. They tended to be shy of humans and left you unbothered. You travelled back and forth between the mountain and the city somewhat regularly, but unlike the hikers and explorers, it was because you lived on Mt. Ebott. A few hours' drive from the city limits, your house was tucked away on the far side of the mountain. It was far from the hustle and bustle of city life, far from the bright lights and smog, and far from any prying eyes that might have taken notice of any unusual activity. Just how you liked it.

Your life was peaceful, your world was small, and your plants were thriving. The house was crammed with them, plants of all species and rarities collected (hoarded) over the couple years since you had inherited the home. You were good with plants, maybe a little too good sometimes, because after a while they started to multiply and make the inside of your home and the greenhouse a cluttered, disorganized mess. In your household, it was necessary for spring cleaning to be ruthless.

Still, no matter the time of year or the state of the rest of your home, you always made sure to keep one of the guest bedrooms clean.

Every once in awhile, either a lost traveler would stumble upon your doorstep, or you would go out for a walk in the forest and stumble upon them first. If they wanted it, you always gave these travelers a place to rest, food to eat, and guidance back to civilization. You didn't mind going out of your way, not if it kept a few more souls from being claimed by Mt. Ebott. And hey-- if you teased a few subtle magic tricks here and there, it would only give them better stories to tell when they got back to their friends and families. Magic wasn't real, anyway, and who would believe them?

It was a spring evening when one such traveler came into your care. You were chopping carrots in the kitchen, mentally writing the header for your next article (A Beginner's Guide to Hydroponic Gardens) as you prepared dinner. A large pot sat empty on the stove, waiting to be filled with ingredients for a stew. The window was open, a light breeze ruffling the leaves of a few small spider plants perched on the windowsill. Rain was on the horizon-- the clouds had been an angry dark grey color for most of the day, and you didn't need to check the weather channels to know that your side of the mountain was in for one hell of a storm that night.

Three carrots were sliced and diced, the scraps tossed into a bucket by your feet. The bucket was filled almost to the brim with coffee grounds, eggshells, fruit peels, vegetable scraps, and other compostable waste. You figured that after the stew's ingredients were fully prepared, there would be enough time for a trip to the compost bins before the rain started.

_Unless there isn't. . ._ you thought, pausing with one hand reaching for an unpeeled potato. You abandoned the potato and set your knife aside, crossing over to the sink and sticking your head out of the window above it. The clouds swirled ominously overhead, and the wind was starting to pick up as the sky darkened. What had once been a cool breeze was well on its way to becoming an icy chill, and if this window was kept open for an hour more, you risked allowing the spider plants to be blown right off of the windowsill. There was practically a tingle in the air, a warning that the storm would be arriving a lot sooner that you had initially thought.

It was a ten minute trip to and from the compost bin, and you figured that the clouds could wait at least that long before unleashing their downpour. You shut the window, hefted the scrap bucket into your arms, and hurried outside. As soon as you stepped off of the back porch, you regretted not stopping to grab a jacket. Goosebumps trailed up your arms as you navigated the network of cobblestone paths leading through the garden. A left turn here, a right turn there, and so on and so forth.

While you were satisfied with the good condition of your beloved houseplants, the garden was where your green thumb could truly shine. Now that winter was over, the plants had come alive again. You had your work cut out for you, tending to almost two acres' worth of garden as the flowers began to bloom. Very soon, riotous color would spill across the land behind your house, and the bees and hummingbirds would only benefit. At the moment, however, every inhabitant of the garden seemed to be curling in to hide in preparation for the coming storm.

Your feet were set on a path with a line of rosebushes walling you in on either side. You ducked under an especially towering rosebush that was beginning to creep over the edge of the path. _I'll have to trim that back tomorrow morning_ , you thought. _But no-- in the morning, I have to start that new article. Okay, a few hours should be enough to get a decent amount of writing done, and then after lunch I should be able to come out here and trim the rosebushes. . . Oh, and the raspberry runners need to be cut back, too!_

There was always a lot to keep track of all at once. Thankfully, the rosebushes ended just up ahead, and you knew you were close to where the compost bins were tucked away. You quickened your step as much as you could without tripping or spilling the contents of the scrap bucket, finally leaving the cover of the rose bushes and stepping out into open air. Here, raised garden beds housed the vegetables and pretty much all of the food grown in the garden overall. Old wooden pallets and chicken wire were nailed and stapled together to make a functional, if not pretty, set of four compost bins.

With one eye on the sky and most of your focus aimed towards planning the week's work schedule, you didn't bother looking around the section of garden you arguably spent the most time in. Setting the scrap bucket on the ground by one of the compost bins, you fished around your pockets for a black marker. Uncapping it with your teeth, you scrawled a list (" _article, rosebushes, raspberries")_ on the skin of your bare arm. It was always better to write down your plans as soon as you made them, or else you'd forget later.

The wind was mercilessly cutting through your light clothing, and you shivered. Something out of the corner of your eye shivered, too, and your eyes snapped up to see a child standing guiltily next to your prized tomatoes.

From their messy brown hair to their striped sweater, the child was smudged in dirt. You had no clue who this was, but whoever they were, they also had a half-eaten tomato clutched in one of their hands. Juice was smeared across the straight line of their mouth. Apparently, they had stuck a hand under the netting meant to keep the birds out of the garden beds and pilfered a tomato. Aside from the kid's presence in general, the thing that startled you the most was that the tomatoes were nowhere near ripe, and yet. . . the kid took another bite.

"That's-- that tomato's still green," you said, fumbling to put the cap back on the marker. "Doesn't it taste really bad?"

The kid nodded.

"Okay, um, you can have another if you want. Where did you come from?"

The kid quickly looked around for a place to set the tomato, and when they couldn't find one, they just crammed the whole thing into their mouth. <The mountain,> they signed, <Though I guess we're still on the mountain.>

You thanked the stars for the fact that you had chosen American Sign Language as your foreign language subject back in high school. Still, it had been some time since then, so your hands were clumsy and slow as you signed back. <You're lost?>

<Yes.>

<How long have you been out here?>

The kid took a moment to reply, silently counting on their fingers. They paused when the count reached nine, and then they shook their head and signed, <About four days now. And I'm mute, not deaf, so you can speak with your voice if you want.>

_Four days. No wonder they don't care about under-ripe tomatoes._ The scrap bucket and the compost bins were forgotten. Right now, you had a kid to feed. "What's your name?" you asked.

For your benefit, the kid kept their movements slow when they finger-spelled their name. <Frisk.>

You finger-spelled your own name back before saying, "Well, Frisk, do you like stew? If we hurry, we can get back inside before the rain hits. I'll get dinner ready, you can use the shower, and I should be able to find some spare clothes for you."

Frisk finally smiled. It was wobbly and maybe a little sad, but most of all it just seemed relieved.

* * *

You and Frisk didn't manage to make it inside before the clouds lost their patience. A few cold drops pitter-pattered down onto the tops of your heads. You looked up in dread.

"Uh, oh," you said, and the clouds must have taken those words as some kind of signal, because then the floodgates opened and the rain _really_ started.

<Let's run!> Frisk signed. You grabbed their hand and took off, leading the way. The both of you were soaked in a matter of minutes, but you kept glancing over your shoulder to see Frisk shaking with silent laughter, a beaming smile on their face.

You couldn't help but smile, too. "We're in the home stretch, come on!"

Just as the first strike of lightning erupted in the background, you and Frisk darted out of the garden and onto the back porch. Frisk shook their head like a dog, making droplets of water fly everywhere. You laughed, sliding off your wet shoes and asking the kid to do the same. When as much water was wrung out of your clothes and hair as possible, you led Frisk into the house.

"Uh, sorry for the mess," you said. "I haven't gotten to spring cleaning, yet, and the repairs aren't finished. . ."

Including the attic and the basement, the house had four stories and more space than one person could ever need. It was all oak and stone, built sometime in the 1950's. With the house's location, its original owner apparently had a great need for privacy. With its high ceilings, grand staircases, and huge windows in cast iron frames, they apparently had a lot of money. Even with the house facing a decade of neglect before you had moved in, hints of its former glory still shone through the cobwebs and disrepair.

In the time since, you had done what you could to make the place livable: scrubbing, dusting, cleaning, and trying to build up carpentry skills from whatever tutorials the internet could offer you. Peeling wallpaper was stripped off and replaced with fresh coats of paint. You waxed the hardwood floors, vacuumed the vintage carpets, and beat all of the rugs several times. The furniture, most of which you suspected to have been there since the house was built, was repaired and refinished to the best of your ability. What could not be salvaged (There was no way you were keeping any of those moldy mattresses) was hauled off to the dump piece by piece, replaced when necessary by what you could find second-hand.

Your uncle's old home looked a lot better than it had when you first moved in, but it was still a mess. _A work in progress,_ you'd tell yourself when the task of restoration seemed particularly hopeless.

Frisk was taking it all in silently, brushing aside the thin leaves of a bamboo palm kept in a pot next to the back door. The plant was almost as tall as they were, and you shuffled aside to give Frisk enough space that they weren't getting a mouthful of leaves.

<Your house looks fine to me!> they signed. <I like how the garden is both inside and outside.>

"Oh, thank you, thank you. . . but you'll see what I mean when you go upstairs. I've managed to get most of the main floor fixed up, but a lot of the rooms still look a little rough around the edges."

<Do you live here by yourself?>

"Yeah, I do. But enough about me-- you're hungry, aren't you? Have you had anything to eat these past few days?" you asked.

<Yeah, I've been doing okay. The longest I've gone without food has been from this morning to when I found your vegetables. Sorry for taking them without asking.>

"You don't have to apologize for that! A day is still a long time to go without eating."

You sent Frisk upstairs to shower, handing them a cookie and a granola bar before they left. In the meantime, you retreated into your bedroom to towel off and change into warm clothes. As you headed downstairs again, you left a stack of spare clothes in front of the bathroom door.

By the time Frisk bounded down the stairs to join you, you were stirring the pot in the kitchen. The kid was freshly clean and looked all the better for it. Though the old pajamas you lent them were nowhere near child-sized, Frisk offered no complaints, and made them work by rolling up the sleeves and tightening the pants' drawstrings as much as they could. They took a seat at the kitchen table, craning their neck to take in every detail of their surroundings.

"Food's almost ready," you told Frisk without turning away from the stove. You tasted the stew, and after a moment's consideration, added more salt. "Oh, and if you're still hungry afterwards, I have some pie. Your choice between butterscotch and cinnamon."

You turned around to see Frisk's response, alarmed to see them wiping at their eyes. "Hey, kid, are you okay?" you asked.

They sniffed under your gaze, more harshly trying to scrub the wetness away from their eyes. <Yeah.>

"I-- you sure? You don't have to eat any pie if you don't want to!" Fuck, what were you supposed to do now? It had been a long time since you had last tried to comfort someone, and even longer since you had actually spoken to a child before Frisk. _And I thought I was doing so well,_ you thought guiltily. 

<I like pie. I really, really do.>

The stew was finished. You doled out two heaping bowls and brought them to the table, seating yourself across from Frisk. Frisk bowed their head, giving in to their need to cry. Hesitantly, you reached over and lightly touched their shoulder. "It'll be okay," you said. "We'll find your parents and get you back home safely. Until that happens, you can stay with me."

Frisk shook their head vigorously, burying their face in their hands.

"You don't want to go back?"

<It's hard to explain. You won't believe me.>

"Of course I'll believe you."

<You won't understand.>

"I can try. I want to help you, kid, and knowing what's making you upset will help me do that. You don't have to tell me right now if you don't want to. If you want to be alone, you can take your food up to the guest bedroom and I won't bother you until breakfast's ready in the morning." You scooted your chair back and held open your arms. "Or you can chill down here with me for a while."

Frisk hopped out of their seat and barreled into you, hugging you close like they were afraid you might disappear. You held them like that for a long time, neither of you saying anything.

* * *

<I'm not crazy.>

"Okay."

<Just promise to listen to me.>

"I promise."

Frisk squinted at you for a few long moments. Dried tear-tracks stained their cheeks. It was odd for a child to look so grim. <I don't know where to start,> they signed.

"The beginning?" you offered.

<Ugh.>

"Take your time to think about it. No rush," you said, standing from your seat with the intention of gathering up the used dishes.

<No, sit! I know what to say now!> Frisk signed quickly, gesturing for you to stay right where you were. You obliged, clasping your hands and watching Frisk expectantly. <It's just not a happy story.>

"You don't have to be afraid to tell me. I'm listening."

Frisk hesitated for a second more, staring at their empty bowl of stew thoughtfully. Then their hands moved so fast, you could hardly keep up with what they were signing. <A really long time ago there was a war between humans and monsters, and the monsters lost so now they have to live underground, under Mt. Ebott. They're trapped under a magical Barrier. I was climbing the mountain and I ended up falling down into the Underground, through the Barrier, and that's where I met the monsters. _Monster_ is just the name of their species-- they're really nice! So that's why I've been lost. I was trapped Underground for a few days and I was trying to get back to the Surface.>

_Oh. Okay,_ you thought blankly.

You blinked once. Twice. "What do the monsters look like?" you asked neutrally.

<They're all different. There are . . some skeletons. Their names are Sans and Papyrus. They were my friends. And there is a yellow dinosaur named Alphys and a fish woman named Undyne. They were my friends, too. . . but not anymore. Undyne hates me now.>

"Why?"

<I did something terrible, and you really should believe me when I say this. I killed the monster king. I killed another monster, too, before that. They were a Moldsmal. Moldsmals are these little jelly monsters, and they like to dance. . .> Frisk burst into fresh tears. <Killing the king, Asgore, was just as bad as killing the Moldsmal. Now Toriel has to be queen, and Undyne hates me because she let me be friends with her, but then I betrayed her trust and killed people. So that's what happened.>

"Did you have to kill people to get out of the Underground? To save yourself?"

<The Moldsmal was innocent. They didn't need to die. Asgore. . . I'm not sure. I didn't like killing him. I want to go back and make things right. I think he could have been spared.>

"So that's why you don't want to go back to your parents. You want to go back Underground to the monsters?"

<Yes. My parents are out of the picture.> Frisk dug a hand into their pocket, placing a beaten flip phone on the table in front of you. With a white plastic body, yellow screen, and an antenna, you had never seen a phone model quite like it. <This is the best proof I have of monsters existing. It's a monster phone given to me by one of my friends. . . I don't know if it would be a good idea to call any of them, though. Papyrus told me not to come back to the Underground or Undyne might try to get revenge. They don't want to hear from me anymore.>

Frisk went on to tell you everything they could about the Underground, how it was the monsters' prison as much as their home. What the kid described painted the picture of a beautiful prison nonetheless, where magic was commonplace and the monsters wished on cave crystals instead of stars. They recounted their journey back to the Surface, not crying again when the story reached the points where the Moldsmal and Asgore had died at Frisk's hands.

Then they told you more about the Barrier, and the role humans played in the monsters' imprisonment. Seven human souls were needed to break the Barrier, which meant seven dead humans. When Frisk fell into the Underground, King Asgore only had six human souls. 

It was well into the night by the time Frisk was finished. The storm raged on outside, rain beating noisily against the windows. Your head was spinning, and you needed a moment to gather your thoughts. You probably took a little too long trying to figure out just _what_ to say, staring at the monster phone as Frisk fidgeted in their seat.

It was an elaborate, fantastical story. Something that would fit right into a fever dream.

"I believe you," you said.

<Then I can go. I understand if you don't want to help me anymore. You really can't help me, anyway. I'll make things right, I promise.>

"How? Frisk, I'm so sorry--"

<No, I should be sorry! I don't think you really believe me! Monsters are real and I killed some of them!> Frisk exploded.

"If there's one thing I know, it's that magic is definitely real. The monsters aren't that much of a stretch on top of that. Frisk, if you say you killed those people, then I believe you. I also believe that you regret it very much. What I'm trying to say is that we can't change the past, so how is going back Underground going to help the monsters?"

<I _can_ change the past. You don't know anything about magic!>

If you weren't careful, you feared that Frisk would bolt out of the house and disappear into the forest. "Actually, I do. Trust me, and I'll show you. Give me your hand," you said gently. 

Frisk lay their arm across the table, palm up and within your reach. You took their hand in yours, turning it to study the bruises marring the skin around their knuckles. You called forth your magic, feeling a warmth bubbling up under your skin. Then you poured green magic into Frisk's bruises, closing your eyes as they turned purple, blue, and then brown before fading away completely. The green magic sensed more damage (nicks, scratches, and skinned knees), so you allowed it to spread over the rest of Frisk's body. The magic repaired and soothed wherever it went, leaving Frisk with nothing so much as a papercut by the time you were finished. Even this small act of healing made you break into a sweat, but you shrugged off the sudden fatigue and tried to give Frisk a reassuring grin. They leaned back in their seat, tracing their fingers up and down their arms in awe.

Frisk signed excitedly, <You're a human mage! Who are you? How did you do that? How many other mages are there?>

"Whoa, one question at a time! You already know my name and, uh, I healed you with magic. I can't be sure how many other magic users exist nowadays. Probably only a handful, because I've never spoken face to face with another mage before. Pretty much any magic I know has been learned through trial and error."

<I didn't know human mages existed until I fell Underground. Apparently they're the reason the monsters lost the war, so there must have been a ton of humans doing magic a really long time ago.>

"So I think it'd be safe to assume that you're a mage, too," you said.

<Yes. Can we have an encounter? Please, I don't want to fight, I just want to see what it's like with another human. A human mage!>

"I've never been in an encounter before, and I'm not totally sure what it even means." You watched apprehensively as Frisk stood up and scampered out of the kitchen, beckoning for you to join them in the living room.

Before the kid swung out of sight, they hovered in the kitchen doorway and signed, <Come on! It just means we get to use magic and see each other's souls in a friendly kind of way!>

You balked at the mention of souls. "Wait!" you called after Frisk. "I don't know that much about souls, but from what I've read, aren't they really vulnerable? I don't think that's something you should be showing to strangers, kid!"

You marched into the living room to find Frisk bouncing up and down in anticipation. They signed, <My soul is very sturdy, actually. I've gotten pretty good at dodging. _Yeah_ , I guess souls could count as weaknesses, but down in the Underground the monsters always took them out for encounters. So long as we don't touch each other's souls, we'll be fine!>

"I don't really want to fight you."

<We don't have to fight so long as we spare each other at the end! Please, trust me? I know you have good reason not to, but you've been nice to me and I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone else ever again. If you check my soul, I think you'll be able to see whether or not I'm telling the truth.>

It was hard to match the image of the cautiously hopeful kid in front of you with the knowledge that they had killed two people. They had killed _royalty_. You would have a real reaction to this information later, when it fully sunk in-- for now, you floated along on numb surprise.

"Is it easy to back out of an encounter?" you asked. One last question.

<Yeah. If you want, you can flee.>

"Alright. You trusted me to show you my magic, so I'll trust you to show me yours. Let's, uh, start."

<Thank you! I'll pull you into an encounter now. Just relax,> Frisk signed. They put a hand on their chest, curled their fingers like they were grasping an invisible string, and tugged. Frisk's soul left their body, a brilliant red heart that lit up the room.

"You're determination," you whispered.

<I am!> Frisk said. They grinned, reaching out a hand to you.

The edges of your vision darkened, and you felt your soul lurch. An outside force reached in and grasped your soul, the center of your being. You had called your own soul forth a handful of times in the past, but having someone else bring it into the open was a foreign experience. You tried not to panic at the loss of control, but it was over almost as soon as it had begun. A light blue cartoon heart floated out of your chest, lighting up one half of the living room in a wash of blue. Frisk let go of it, and you were back in total control. "I'm patience," you said.

Frisk replied, <At first I thought you might be kindness, but patience makes a lot of sense. Now the encounter can _really_ start. Your turn!>

You checked Frisk's soul. 

* FRISK - ATK 12 DEF 10

* Can't resist making a new friend

* They have places to be, and mistakes to rewrite

With that, your turn ended. "Alright, I'm ready," you told Frisk, bracing yourself.

<The stew you made was really good!> they signed.

"Um, thanks."

<Thank you for agreeing to get into an encounter with me, too. I appreciate it.>

"Kid, are you going to do anything? It's your turn to act."

<I _am_ acting. Someone named Toriel once told me that when I get into encounters, I should strike up some friendly conversation. It works.>

Any written evidence of real magic was few and far between. You had scoured practically every library in Ebott City for records left behind by magic users of bygone ages. Only a few old documents and books ever turned up, and not one of them was entirely credible. The truth was always mixed in with superstition and fairy tales, and over the years you had accepted that without the help of other mages, you would probably never be able to separate fact from fiction and piece together the history of magic. Magic's full potential was still a mystery to you. Now Frisk, another living, breathing mage, was here to shatter your previous idea of what an encounter would be like. In text, encounters were fights, and each turn was to exchange a blow.

You had never considered exchanging compliments instead. And why not? It was your turn again.

"Okay. I think you're a good kid, Frisk."

Frisk's face fell. <I spare you,> they said. <If you spare me, too, we'll end the encounter.>

"Is that what you want?"

<Yes.>

"Then I spare you."

Two souls, one red and one blue, floated back into their rightful places. You rubbed a hand on your chest where your soul had disappeared inside, taking its light blue glow with it.

Across from you, Frisk regarded you carefully. <Why did you say that?> they asked. <If you really believe what I've told you?>

"You are bound and determined to fix your mistakes, and even though I can't see how you can do that, it's enough for me that you want to. You've been honest with me," you replied.

<I haven't told you everything.>

"Can you?"

<Yeah. I think I'm ready now.> Frisk flopped down onto the couch. You made yourself comfortable next to them, propping your feet up on the coffee table. <I didn't really use my magic in our encounter,> Frisk continued, <The thing is, my magic has to do with time. I can SAVE and load, which means . . . I can SAVE points in time and then replay them back if I need to, like if I get hurt or stuck."

This was unlike anything you had ever heard outside of movies, but you believed in magic and now you believed in monsters, so why not believe in a child's ability to manipulate time itself? "Like a time machine?" you asked.

<Like that! It's not like in the movies, though. I don't have to worry about seeing my past self or anything. If I load a SAVE, it brings me back to the SAVE point and erases everyone's memory except mine. Everything usually happens the same way, so if I have to get past any puzzles or solve any problems, it gets easier because I know what to expect. I guess my power is more like a video game."

"That's amazing," you breathed. _A magic like that. . . could be very dangerous._

<You believe me?>

"Yes, Frisk, and I'll keep saying it if you need me to."

<Thank you. I only figured out how to use my magic after I fell Underground, and I used it to get back to the Surface. That's what I didn't tell you. Do you. . . remember any of the previous SAVES? Did you notice anything weird in the past few days?>

You thought hard about this, but in the end shook your head. "No, but maybe I'm not the right person to ask. All my days are the same up here on the mountain. I might be a little bit of a hermit."

Frisk nodded slowly. <Some of the monsters said I looked familiar after I loaded a bunch of times. I think they got Deja vu when they kept meeting me for the first time over and over. Maybe it's a good thing you don't remember anything, though. You would've had to relive the same days without knowing what was going on.>

"You're probably right. And, um, I'm sure you've realized by now how a magic like yours is a pretty big deal. Thank you for telling me this, but I think this is something best kept secret. People wouldn't take kindly to knowing you're, well, a time mage."

<I think the monsters might understand.>

"You'd know better than I would about the monsters. Just be careful, kid." You crossed your arms with a small, strained smile. "You want to go back in time and redo your whole journey back to the Surface, don't you?"

<I won't kill anyone this time, I'll choose mercy! I can reset as many times as I need to!>

"Is there any way I can help? Can you take things back in time with you?"

<No. Sorry. But thank you.>

You really did not like the idea of sending Frisk away to fend for themself against a race of magical monsters in need of a human soul, no matter the monsters' reasons for it. Sure, Frisk had made it out of the Underground by themself once already, but you did not want them to have to do it again. You told Frisk, "Maybe you don't have to reset at all. I mean, hey, you've got me to help out! In the morning you can show me where you fell Underground in the first place, and I can go down there myself. Maybe things will be different this time."

<I'm sorry, but I don't think I can do that, either. Undyne said she'd kill me if I came back, remember? I think I ruined things for every human that falls Underground after me. Now that King Asgore is dead, I don't know how the monsters are going to choose a new ruler. It's probably all messed up down there. If you went by yourself, they'd take your soul, and I'm not letting that happen! If things went back to the way they were before I ruined everything, I think I can free the monsters.>

You offered, "Then after you reset, come and find me before you go Underground. I'll be here, in the house or in the garden. I can help you then."

With each new suggestion, Frisk's face only grew sadder and sadder. They signed, <I didn't have my magic before I fell Underground, so I think I can only reset to when I first woke up in the Ruins.>

"That's. . . well, that's not ideal, but it's also not your fault." You stared off the the side, wracking your brain for any kind of loophole that would allow you to keep your memories of knowing Frisk even after a reset.

Frisk poked your shoulder, drawing your attention back to them. <I'm glad I met you,> they signed, before diving in for a tight hug.

You huffed a laugh, encircling your arms around the kid. "I'm glad I met you, too. You better come back and meet me all over again!"

Frisk signed, <I will! I'll free the monsters and then you can meet them, too. I promise.>

"That's a pretty big promise, and I can't ask you to make it. It's okay if you can't save everyone. Just promise to take care of yourself, alright?"

<I am _determined_ to save everyone. There's a way, I know there is. I'll find it.>

". . . Well, if there's a will, there's a way."

<That's the spirit! I'll leave right now!>

You laughed again, despite a pang of sadness in your soul. "If your power really is what you say, I can't stop you. Bye, then. And good luck! Feel free to pillage as many of my tomatoes as you want on the way back."

<I'll be here before you know it! You don't have to worry about me. Which is a good thing, because you won't be able to.>

"So will it hurt? The reset?"

<You won't feel anything at all.>

"So how will I know when it--"


	2. Prologue, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet a kid who seems familiar. The kid's friends, on the other hand, are so far outside the realm of familiar that they're just nonhuman. Monsters.

There were always chores to be done around the property. Even with a snap of magic here and there to make life easier, the garden still needed to be tended and the house was in dire need of some spring cleaning. Even so, these domestic tasks took second place next to work, because as they say, money makes the world go round. At times there could be a lot to keep track of at once, so you had always been one for making lists in an effort to complete everything from work to housekeeping in due time. Reminders on sticky notes and memo pads were pasted all over the refrigerator door, but when you were on the go you tended to scribble little reminders on your skin for future reference.

Suddenly, though, your lists stopped being as effective as they had been. Now whenever your mind wandered, you kept catching yourself checking your arms for reminders of tasks you knew for a fact had already been completed. Three things in particular were always in the back of your mind: the rosebushes, a specific article idea (A Beginner's Guide to Hydroponic Gardens), and the raspberry bushes.

You had already taken care of these things, you _knew_ that. An especially towering rosebush had already been trimmed away from the garden path, the raspberry runners had been cut back, and you had finished your last commissioned article a week ahead of schedule, the words coming to you so naturally it was almost as if you had written the article before. For some reason there was a nagging itch in the back of your mind, like there was something about these three things you had forgotten.

Maybe you _were_ forgetting something, but it couldn't have been very important if a few days' worth of thinking hard did nothing to recover the memory. It was all a little frustrating, though, because on top of that you couldn't shake the feeling that each new day was already one you had lived through.

It was a spring evening when this sense of Deja vu came to an all-time high. You were in the kitchen, chopping carrots in preparation for dinner. A large pot sat empty on the stove, waiting to be filled with ingredients for a stew. The window was open, a light breeze ruffling the leaves of a few spider plants perched on the windowsill. Rain was on the horizon-- the clouds had been an angry dark grey color for most of the day, and you didn't need to check the weather channels to know that your side of the mountain was in for one hell of a storm that night.

The scene felt strangely familiar.

_It's all blurring together, I guess. There have been rainy days before this one,_ you thought, tossing the vegetable scraps into the compost bucket. The bucket was almost full, and you would have to dump it very soon if you wanted to beat the storm.

You were reaching for the bucket handle when the sound of tapping, like a few timid knocks echoing from the back door a few rooms away, startled you out of your thoughts. You turned away from the scrap bucket, listening hard in case you were only hearing things. Sure, you housed a few lost travelers here and there, but visitors were still rare up on your side of the mountain. And why wouldn't they knock from the front door. . . ?

After a few long moments of silence, you relaxed and hefted the scrap bucket into your arms. _The wind's picking up,_ you reasoned. _It's probably making a few tree branches knock against the windows. I'd better go take care of the compost before the rain starts._

Someone punched the door three times without holding back, the booming racket a far cry from any gentle tap. _"Hey, human!"_ A rough voice shouted. _"Are you in there or what?"_

"UNDYNE, WE'D BEST LEAVE THE TALKING TO FRISK! THIS IS THEIR FIRST CHANCE TO TEST THEIR METTLE AS THE AMBASSADOR!"

You froze. That shouting was definitely coming from the living room, where the back door opened up onto the porch. 

"PERHAPS THE HUMAN INSIDE IS JUST SHY?"

_. . . Stars, I guess the compost can wait,_ you thought, dropping the scrap bucket onto the kitchen tiles. _Better not have splintered my damn door._

You scurried into the living room, talking before the back door was even open. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here. You could really be more gentle with-- _aaaagh_!"

Unfortunately, you pulled open the door just as a tall woman was mid-punch, cutting you off mid-sentence. You hardly registered a blue fist flying at your face before instinct made you duck wildly, the magic in your veins flaring in defense.

"What the hell?!" you snapped, stumbling back and fixing a glare at the woman. It faded as soon as her appearance sunk in. Blue scaly skin, a blood-red ponytail, fins on either side of her head and a mouthful of sharp yellow teeth. She was. . . a fish? The creature from the Black Lagoon?

"Uh, yeah, my bad. Nice dodge, though," she shrugged. Hers was definitely one of the voices you had heard from the kitchen. 

"OH, NO! I'M AFRAID THIS IS OFF TO A BAD START ALREADY, AND FRISK HASN'T EVEN HAD A CHANCE TO SPEAK! MY APOLOGIES, HUMAN, THIS IS MY FRIEND UNDYNE AND SHE IS KNOWN FOR A ZELOUS KNOCK. NO NEED TO FEAR, WE MEAN YOU NO HARM. I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" And there was the other voice you had heard, coming from a skeleton even taller than Undyne, wearing some kind of costume armor. His volume was practically blowing you away, but at least he made no moves to attack either you or the door. Papyrus struck a decidedly non-threatening pose with a hand on his hip, red scarf flapping majestically in the wind.

Papyrus's armor top only covered his ribs, so you could look past his exposed spine and make awkward eye contact with a small yellow dinosaur standing behind him. This couldn't be faked with stage makeup.

Fuck, what was going _on_? A whole crowd of . . . monsters was huddled on your back porch, and you were torn between openly staring or avoiding your gaze entirely. Unsure of what to do, you stuck to a script that generally worked whenever you encountered travelers, though every traveler before had always been human (or at least, a human with flesh and organs attached). You said, "And. . . um . . . are you guys lost?"

A small child wearing a striped sweater waved their hands enthusiastically, drawing your attention to them. They squeezed past Undyne to stand at the forefront of the group. <Hi! We aren't really lost, we're just doing some sightseeing right now,> they signed. <My name is Frisk, and I'm the Monster Ambassador. My friends here have been trapped Underground for a long time, and now they want to see the Surface and meet humans. It's a long story. You're the first human they've seen, other than me.>

"Hi, Frisk. Have . . . we met before?"

Frisk shrugged in what seemed to be a try for nonchalance, but their bright smile told a different story. They signed, <I don't know. Maybe down in Ebott City.>

"Right, yeah. It's a big city . . ." you trailed off into awkward silence. Frisk and the monsters watched you expectantly.

Then you thought, _Sure, why not. This is one hell of a way to break up the monotony._

"It's about to rain, why don't you come in? I'm making dinner," you said, stepping out of the doorway and cracking a grin at the outlandishness of it all.

Papyrus showed no hesitation, zooming past you and into the living room. He whipped a flip phone out of his boot. "WOWIE! I'D BETTER CALL THE ROYALTY AND LET THEM KNOW WHERE WE'RE AT!"

"Er, royalty?" you squeaked.

You didn't realize Undyne had approached until she clapped a hand down onto your shoulder with more force than strictly necessary. "King Asgore and Queen Toriel! Except Toriel's dropped her title, I guess. Don't sweat it, nerd, they're pretty smiley people. Asgore likes flowers and shit almost as much as you do, so at least you have that going for you," she said. Undyne gave your shoulder a friendly shake before following Papyrus into the house. Papyrus was studying every square inch of the space, enamored by the plants, and Undyne walked up to one of the tall plant stands like she was sizing it up for a fight.

"Been a long time since anyone's called me _nerd_ ," you muttered wonderingly, thinking back to the elementary school playground. 

"She, uh, means it affectionately," said the yellow dinosaur. "Name's Alphys. . . uh. . . hi."

To try and salvage your first impression, you tried to channel as much warmth as you could into saying, "Nice to meet you."

". . . Yeah. Nice to meet you, too. I'll go inside, now. . ."

And off Alphys went, hopefully to minimize any damage if Undyne actually did pick a fight with one of your houseplants. Frisk was quick to go after her. They didn't say anything, but they did stop to wrap their arms around your waist in a tight hug before darting away.

As your impromptu guests poked around the living room, you lingered by the back door, clutching the handle tightly to ground yourself. Dodging Undyne's "knock" had startled your magic into defensiveness, and holding it back this entire time was making you twitch with nervous energy. The hairs on your arms stood on end. Your palms were slick with sweat. The raw power of your magic was awake and itching to be released against a threat.

Tough luck, because even if you wanted to attack, you didn't know any spells that could be useful in a fight. Your specialty lay in healing, growing, and mending, and you couldn't conjure so much as a shield. By now you doubted that the monsters were an actual threat, anyway. Frisk vouched for them, and for some reason you couldn't place, that made it hard to distrust the monsters. 

You eyed the bamboo palm sitting in a large pot close by. Blasting it with green magic would take care of your problem, but surely someone would notice the plant suddenly gaining a couple feet in height. _Maybe if I just sprinkled a little bit to take the edge off. . ._

From across the room, Papyrus whirled around to meet your eyes. You tried to casually step away from the bamboo palm, but the acting was rather stiff.

"WHAT ARE THESE FOR?" Papyrus called, pointing a skeletal finger up. Tall vines were growing up and around the living room windows, guided by tacks in the walls.

"It's just ivy, there's no real purpose. Decoration, I guess," you replied. You didn't know what to do with your hands.

"Ah, man, that's no good!" Undyne said. "That's going to be so flammable! How are you going to cook?"

"The human, uh, probably doesn't cook in the living room," Alphys told her.

Frisk added, <Yeah, there's a kitchen for that, and [Name] doesn't even need to start fires to make food.>

Undyne crossed her arms, a dangerous glint in her one eye. "What? Impossible. There's no such thing as a good meal made without _the fires of passion_!"

Frisk stuck their tongue out playfully at Undyne. They signed,<It's true! Their food is very good. Just as good as yours, if not better.>

Undyne turned on you. "Human, are you challenging me?"

"I didn't say anything!" you shrilled.

"JUST HOLD ON!" Papyrus said sternly, and you were relieved until he continued and you realized he hadn't come to your rescue. "I AM A DEDICATED CHEF AS WELL, AND AS I ALWAYS SAY, THERE CAN'T BE TOO MANY COOKS IN THE KITCHEN! I WILL BE JOINING YOU."

" _Yeeah_!" Undyne cackled. "We're gonna cook up a storm, we're gonna burn this place down! I'm gonna make something so good, it'll singe your taste buds right off!"

"MAY THE BEST COOK WIN!"

You asked, "But not literally, right? We're not literally going to start any fires?"

Undyne threw an arm around your shoulders and laughed. It was not reassuring.

You opened your mouth, either to make a joke or simply plead Undyne and Papyrus not to burn down your kitchen, but instead of speaking you paused. With your magic alert on the verge of being paranoid, it sensed something appear behind you. This new presence was subtle, arriving with nothing more than a soundless disturbance in the air.

"it's always nice to see you going to new _farenheits_ with your cooking, paps," said a deep voice.

You saw Papyrus's cheerful face darken into a scowl before you shrugged off Undyne's arm and turned around. A new monster was standing on the porch, offering Frisk a wave that the kid returned excitedly. It was another skeleton, short and wide where Papyrus was tall and gangly. Hands (metacarpals?) shoved into the pockets of a worn blue hoodie, the new skeleton plodded into the house with a lazy grin.

Papyrus shook his head in exasperation but came up to greet the newcomer regardless. "AH, SANS" he said, "I'M GLAD YOU GOT MY TEXT SO QUICKLY, BUT YOUR LOWBROW HUMOR IS RUINING OUR FIRST IMPRESSION!"

"hey, bro. asgore and tori said no to a shortcut, cause it makes 'em sick, but they aren't _char_ behind."

" _SANS_!"

"heheh."

Papyrus sighed dramatically and turned to you, pretending not to hear Frisk's snickering in the background. "PLEASE EXCUSE HIM. THIS IS MY BROTHER, SANS, AND HE IS A GOOD MONSTER DESPITE HIS TASTE IN JOKES."

"Undyne _did_ almost punch me in the face," you chuckled nervously. "Puns are fine."

That comment seemed to surprise Sans out of his relaxed demeanor for just a moment, his eye-lights darting to the fish woman herself. Undyne, for her part, looked embarrassed. She marched over, looming over you in a way that probably wasn't meant to be intimidating but certainly was.

In determined seriousness, Undyne said, "Human, . . . sorry. For that. My bad. Look, I'll make it up to you! First, we're going to go head-to-head in the kitchen and see how far the culinary arts have progressed on the Surface versus the Underground. Then I'll take you under my wing and train you until you can go out there and dodge bullets with your eyes closed!"

Stars, you were starting to feel overwhelmed. "I-- thank you? But, um, I'm gonna have to think about the training . . . I don't think I'll be needing to dodge bullets anytime soon, and I'm not too keen on trying . . ."

Frisk signed, <She doesn't mean bullets from a gun! She means magic bullets. It's how monsters fight.>

"I have no idea what's going on," you finally admitted.

Sans said, "i've got a few burning questions, myself. how about we take turns asking? first things first: who are you? i got here late."

The corners of your mouth lifted, a genuine but strained smile. "I'm [Name]. I, ha, live here. I inherited the property from my uncle a few years ago and I've been fixing it up since. For work, I write for garden magazines and stuff like that. I'm good with plants."

"cool. i'm sans. sans the skeleton. i did odd jobs in the Underground, but now we're out of there so new freedom, new opportunities i guess. haven't met many humans."

"I haven't met many monsters," you replied.

Since the moment he arrived, Sans's face had been fixed in what was beginning to seem like a permanent grin. It didn't change when he held out his hand. "well, [Name], don't you know how to greet a new friend?"

You didn't hesitate to accept the friendly gesture, but as soon as you clasped Sans's bony hand in yours, a mild shock jolted through your palm. It didn't even hurt, but the scare it gave you was the last straw. Control over your magic slipped, and then there was no going back. Like a dam breaking, the buildup of magic was released in one big wave that was felt like an oppressive weight in the air. 

Every plant in the room burst into rapid growth, blooming and dying within the span of a few seconds. Dead leaves coated the floor. The ivy managed to hold onto life, spreading out over the window panes in such thick layers that the outside light was blocked entirely. The ivy scaled the walls all the way up to the tall ceiling before the weight was too much for the tacks to bear and the whole mass of ivy fell from the walls, forcing Alphys to quickly scurry out of the way.

After the ivy hit the floorboards, there was shocked silence.

"Oh. Sorry," you said weakly. Your knees felt like jelly from sudden exhaustion. That was a huge amount of magic wasted, high above the self-imposed limit of what you expended on a daily basis.

Sans had not let go of your hand. You could see now that there was a small, harmless joy buzzer slipped onto his fingers. His grin was gone, and so were the little lights in his eye sockets that acted as pupils. "you're a mage," Sans said emotionlessly.

Undyne and Papyrus had leapt to Alphys and Frisk's defense, shielding them and watching you warily. Though Papyrus was weaponless, Undyne twirled a blue spear threateningly. The spear, you realized, was materialized out of magic-- the first magical weapon you had ever seen firsthand. Undyne narrowed her eye at you in guarded confusion, all friendliness gone.

"I'm sorry," you said again, yanking your hand out of Sans's grip.

Frisk glowered, running out from behind Undyne's back despite her worried protests. Papyrus, on the other hand, didn't try to stop the kid.

<Stop being mean!> Frisk scolded the monsters.

" _Mean_?" Undyne repeated in disbelief. "Frisk, get back here! You know what happened the last time monsters ran into human mages!"

"i thought they had all died out," Sans said. Under his gaze, you felt a bead of sweat trail across the back of your neck.

<I'm a human mage, too! For all I know, [Name] and I are the last ones,> Frisk told the monsters. They huffed and scurried over to your side, grabbing your sleeve and tugging you back a few steps away from Sans and Undyne. At a loss for what to do, you let it happen. Turning to you, Frisk said, <I lied earlier, I've met you before today and I remember it. It was a rainy day like this one. Do you remember me?>

"No," you said, wondering why doing so felt wrong. There was vague familiarity, which you had felt since Frisk had introduced themselves as the Monster Ambassador, but Deja vu was not concrete evidence of anything. You couldn't say for certain that you had met Frisk before-- with your secluded lifestyle, it had been a long time since you had spoken to a child in general.

<Well, we really did meet before, and we talked for a long time! I knew you were a mage. You helped me, and I promised that I'd come back and be your friend, so here I am. I kept my promise.>

"Stars, I must have made quite the impression. I'm sorry I don't remember you, but for what it's worth, I'm glad you came by to say hi."

This time Frisk turned to Sans, their face pinched with defiance. <I know why you don't trust mages,> they signed, <But this one's good. If you want to hurt them you'll have to get through me!>

"Hey, wait!" you cut in, "Look, I don't want to fight, but if it comes to that I'm not letting you fight for me, Frisk. There's just no reason to fight, though. . . I don't know what humans have done to monsters in the past, but until today I didn't even know monsters existed. I don't have anything against you guys."

Sans said, "y'know, humans put us Underground in the first place. mages made the Barrier to seal us in and then they left us to rot for hundreds of years."

Undyne grunted in agreement.

You said, "I know saying sorry isn't going to make up for anything, but I can promise that I will never remake the Barrier. I couldn't even if I wanted to-- the knowledge of magic in general has been lost over time, and I haven't been able to learn much of it. Other humans wouldn't believe me if I tried to tell them I'm a mage, and if I showed them proof I'm not sure what would happen. I keep my magic a secret by living up here on the mountain."

Papyrus finally spoke up. He had been so silent during this exchange that you had almost forgotten he was there. "SO, HUMAN, YOU AND FRISK COULD BE THE LAST TWO MAGES IN EXISTENCE?"

"Maybe. Probably," you murmured.

"WHAT MAGIC CAN YOU DO?"

You gestured to the ruined plants around you, to the huge mass of overgrown ivy you were going to have to clean up later. "Like I said, I'm good with plants. I can heal living things, and, haha, sometimes I use magic to make my hair grow really long."

"GREEN MAGIC, THEN. IT'S GOOD TO HAVE. WELL. . . FRISK TRUSTS YOU, AND I SEE NO REASON WHY I SHOULDN'T GIVE YOU A CHANCE. IS THE KITCHEN SHOWDOWN STILL ON?"

You smiled weakly. "We can can make dinner together today, but I'm too tired to put up a real fight if we make it a competition. How about we postpone it?"

"ALRIGHTY, PROPER TIME TO PREPARE WILL MAKE FOR A BETTER PERFORMANCE FROM ALL OF US. UNDYNE, PUT THE SPEAR AWAY UNLESS YOU WANT TO HELP CUT UP THE IVY AND MOVE IT OUTSIDE. SANS-- OH STARS, HE'S ALREADY GONE."

Indeed, Sans was nowhere in sight. "Where did he go?" you asked in surprise. Not having him around to give you a death glare was nice, but you had not expected him to be able to slip away unnoticed like that.

"OH, HE'S PROBABLY GOING OFF TO EXPLORE ALONE. THE SURFACE IS BIG, REALLY BIG COMPARED TO THE UNDERGROUND."

"I can only imagine," you replied.

Nervously, you watched Undyne out of the corner of your eye. Alphys patted her arm with a pleading expression, and she sighed and finally relented. Undyne twirled the blue spear once, and it burst into glowing blue dust that faded out of existence midair.

"You seem fine, I guess. Just know that I'm watching you, so don't try anything," Undyne told you.

<I said stop being mean!> Frisk signed sternly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm not gonna fight anyone unless I have to. Why beat [Name] up for real when I can beat their weak cooking?"

You said, "Hmm, we'll see about that. I'm making a rule right now that there can't be true victory if somebody starts a fire." Undyne still intimidated you, but no matter her roughness she didn't seem bloodthirsty. She was just as cautious of you as you were of her, and hopefully with time that wariness would fade.

" _What_?" Undyne demanded.

"If we're doing this in my kitchen, I don't want it to get burned down! I've come too far with the renovations on this house to let that happen now!"

Here Alphys cut in with a long-suffering shake of her head. "They're right, Undyne. Besides, it's not like we have another kitchen to cook in. You've burned your house down already, and, um. . . we can't cook at Papyrus's house because I don't think Sans would, uh, want any human mages other than Frisk there."

<Me, Alphys, Toriel, and Asgore can judge the cooking!> Frisk signed excitedly.

"Is there going to be anything expected of me when I meet the monster king and queen? Like, is there a certain kind of etiquette I'm supposed to know?" you asked nervously.

"No, just act normal. Come on, nerd," Undyne said. "I told you already that they're pretty nice. You're about to meet them soon anyway, Sans said that they were on their way."

Your eyes widened as you looked around the living room, studying the damage. Few of the houseplants would be salvageable after your magical outburst, and the floor was a huge mess of dead leaves and dried flowers. Not to mention the ivy. 

Undyne followed your train of thought and summoned another magic spear. "Okay, I'll take care of all this before the royalty arrives. Consider us even for the couple times I almost took your head off earlier."

Frisk gathered a bunch of leaves and threw them up in the air like confetti. <I'll help Undyne!>

"AND I WILL HELP [Name] WITH DINNER! IT WILL ALLOW ME TO SIZE MY UP COMPETITION!" Papyrus said.

"Oh. . . Thanks!" you sputtered. 

With a crook of her fingers, Alphys caught your attention and beckoned you to lean down to her level. She muttered, "I'd, uh, better go with you guys to the kitchen. For damage control. Papyrus learned how to cook from Undyne."

"Oh," you breathed.

"I CAN HEAR YOU!"

"You can hear the truth, you mean," Alphys said, grinning.

"Honestly, I'm still not really sure what's going on," you said awkwardly, straightening and scratching your neck. "Like I said, I didn't know about monsters before today. Can you tell me about yourselves? The whole story?"

"OF COURSE, BUT THE STORY STARTS WITH FRISK. I THINK THEY KNOW IT BEST," Papyrus said, waving a hand towards the kid.

Frisk smiled up at you. <I'll tell you everything. Just promise to believe me?>

"I promise," you replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frisk, 30 seconds after freeing the Underground: So I know a great place for tomatoes
> 
> Here's the end of the prologue! This fic takes place in the present-day, but think of this as an au where Covid-19 doesn't exist ig. Heads up, the updates on this fic will be slow because I'm preoccupied with school.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'm pretty excited to work on this.


End file.
